Across the Line
by wolfmusic218
Summary: An unguarded Reese shows up on Carter's doorstep after a rough night with the Russian mob. Carter has to navigate through her fears and her desire to get to the truth. No amount of training could have prepared her for this.


**Title:** Across the Line

**Author: **wolfmusic218

**Summary:** An unguarded Reese shows up on Carter's doorstep after a rough night with the Russian mob. Carter has to navigate through her fears and her desire to get to the truth. No amount of training could have prepared her for this.

**Author's notes:** This story is for a Valentine's Day fic exchange. As usual, I'm _really_ late getting this done. Anyone surprised? Anyone? Bueller?

I got **crypticnotion's** name and prompt:

_Drunken confessions. It doesn't matter which one is drunk. No sexytimes, but mutual realization of wanting to move to the next level. Kissing would be nice."_

And of course, I had to play around with it. It's how I roll. I hope it's what you were looking for. :)

There's no way in the world I could have finished this without the help of my friends Barb and Chellero. You guys made this sooooo much better than I could have _ever_ imagined it on my own. For that, I thank you. Oh, and I thank you for dealing with my constant insecurities, too. You're troopers on an epic level. :)

* * *

The sound got louder as she was dragged from her sleep. The banging. It wasn't in her dream. Someone was pounding on her door at...she glanced at the clock on her bedside table...3:12 in the damn morning. She was going to kill whoever it was. No exceptions. She'd pulled a late night, getting in just after midnight. All she'd wanted when she walked in the door was a hot shower and a warm bed. In that order.

She grabbed the Glock on the nightstand with a sigh and got out of bed, not even bothering to slip on her robe or slippers.

The banging continued.

She leaned over and switched on the lamp next to the door. Looking through the peephole, she was surprised to see John and Shaw on the other side. John leaned on the petite woman and rapped his knuckles on the door. He looked worse for wear and Shaw just looked pissed off. So, a typical night...or morning...with these two.

"C'mon, Carter, open up."

Swinging open the door, she stood in front of them, her gun hanging at her side. "What the hell is wrong with you? You're going to wake up the neighbors and make me even _more_ popular around here."

"Hi Joss," Reese whispered loudly. He looked...bad. Bruises on his jaw, his shirt ripped and stained with blood, and his jacket filthy. His eyes were unfocused, but there was the slightest of smiles on his face, too.

She glanced at Shaw who sighed again. Her arm was around his waist and she struggled to keep him upright. "Listen, Carter, I know this is a pain in the ass, but I rescued genius here from a bunch of Russians who were using him as a punching bag. I don't know what else he got into, but he's not right. When I got him in the car, he _insisted_ on coming over here. Like, gun to the head insisted."

Joss's eyes flashed to John who just shrugged.

"I wanted to see you."

"At three in the morning? This couldn't wait until later? What the hell is going on?" Against her better judgement, she motioned for them both to come in.

Reese pulled away from Shaw, leaning in to brush his nose over Joss's hair as he slipped past her. He wandered towards the couch, plopping down with a huff and smiling at her.

Shaw raised her eyebrows and shook her head with a grin. "He's all yours, Carter. Like I said, no clue what's wrong with him, other than needing a couple of bandaids and a good night's sleep, but he's been weird since I got him."

"Wait, Sam...is he drunk?"

Shaw turned from the door and shrugged. "Nope, don't think so, didn't smell anything on him. Give Finch a call, he might know."

"So...what...you're just going to leave him here?"

"Yep. This is where he wanted to be. Just throw him a pillow and tell him to sleep it off; he'll be fine." She closed the door behind her with a snick.

Joss stared at the door. _What the hell is wrong with these people?_

She turned slowly, her eyes closed and her fists clenched. This was all a dream. She kept repeating it like a mantra until she opened her eyes and he was still there sprawled on her couch. He'd thrown off his jacket and unbuttoned and rolled up his sleeves. And he was smirking at her through droopy eyes.

She was gonna wipe that damn smirk off that handsome face with a quickness.

"Joss. Hey." He waved his hand at her lazily. "I know it's late, sorry...I just wanted to see you."

She held up a finger and picked up her phone. "Wait. You...just wait. I don't know what the hell is going on, but I'm about to find out. And then we'll figure out what to do with you."

His eyebrows rose and he opened his mouth to say something, but the glare she sent him broke through the haze and he clamped his mouth shut. And then pulled his fingers over his lips in a zipper motion. If she wasn't so irritated, she would have laughed. This was not the John Reese she was used to. She wasn't sure she was ready to deal with _this_ incarnation.

Sighing, Joss turned her back on him and hit the speed dial on her burner phone. She didn't even wait for the usual greeting when Finch finally picked up.

"You wanna tell me what's going on? Shaw just dropped John here at 3 in the morning, either drunk or high or something. What exactly am I supposed to do with him?"

"Good morning, Detective. I am sorry about this, but he was rather insistent that Ms. Shaw bring him to your apartment. I tried to talk him out of it, but well..."

"Yeah, I get it. He was insistent. Just tell me what's going on."

"I can't give you all the details, mainly because I don't know all of them yet, but from what I've gathered, Mr. Reese was being held by members of the Russian mob and was dosed with what I'm assuming is SP-117...it's a - "

" - truth serum. Yeah, I was an interrogator, Finch."

"Yes, yes, I know, I'm sorry. So, you know how they work. They don't actually force the truth from the subject...they just make a person more pliable, more open to suggestion...and they lower the inhibitions."

"Yeah - " She stopped there. _Oh my God. He wanted to see me. _She swallowed and stole a glance at Reese who raised his fingers from his thigh and wiggled them at her in what, she assumed, was supposed to be a wave.

She could almost hear the mental push in Finch's voice saying, _C'mon, Detective, put two and two together._

"And he wanted to come here." Four.

"Yes, he did."

She was stunned. Why, she couldn't say. There had been a part of her, even from the beginning, that had known there had to be...something...underneath all of his over-protectiveness.

But now what? She couldn't exactly explore any of this with him right now, as much as she might want to. And she couldn't use his condition against him.

She glanced over at him again quickly and a small smile formed. _Could she?_

She shook her head, stopping those thoughts in their tracks._ No. No, she couldn't._

_She really, really shouldn't._

She cleared her throat. She couldn't deal with the thoughts running through her head right now. Right now, she had to deal with a drugged Reese.

"So what now? What am I supposed to do with him?" She couldn't help the touch of trepidation that crept into her voice. Reese was her friend, there was no doubt about that, and she would do anything to help, but _God_ she wasn't sure she was ready for this.

Finch paused on the the other end. "Well, I think that's completely up to you, Detective. I can send a car for him and have him taken home or..." he trailed off.

"Or I can deal with an uninhibited John Reese," she finished for him. Letting out a long sigh, she pinched the bridge of her nose. She could feel a headache brewing. It was too late...or too early...for this. It really, really was. Couldn't these people disrupt her life at noon?

Finch chuckled. "One thing you might not know about SP-117...there's a memory loss component. Once he sleeps it out of his system, there's a very good chance he won't remember any of this."

She turned back towards Reese and stilled. He'd laid his head back, eyes closed, and his arms spread out over the back of the couch. pulling his tattered shirt tight across his chest. He'd propped his feet on her coffee table, his legs wide.

Her throat suddenly dried up at the sight.

_Damn the man. Damn. Him. _

"Detective? Did you hear me?"

"Yeah. Yeah, I heard you."

"OK, then. What would you like to do? Shall I send a car?"

Her temple throbbed. For the second time this morning, she fought with her better judgement. "No", she said finally, again trying to keep the exasperation from her voice. "No, it's fine. He can stay here. I'll get him settled on the couch. I'll call you if we need anything."

"Very well...thank you, Detective. I feel better knowing he's in good hands. Don't hesitate to call for any reason."

* * *

Deciding to let him sleep for a little while longer, and to give herself a couple of minutes to collect herself, Joss went to the bathroom for the first aid kit and a towel.

She looked at herself in the mirror and sighed. She _looked_ like three in the morning; her hair was a mess, she was still in her sweats, and she probably needed to brush her teeth. She smoothed her hair down as best she could and then laughed at herself. What the hell was she doing? This was Reese.

_Exactly, girl. It's John. That man has been the subject of several pretty hot fantasies over the years. Fix that hair. _

One of these days she was going to punt that little voice. But she took another swipe at her hair anyway.

Sitting down on the toilet, she took a deep breath. She needed some time before she went out there again. She needed to get her feelings in check and stop being so...angry. She shouldn't be angry about something he couldn't control. It was just the time of night and she was so tired. So tired of fighting what she was feeling. Tired of being tired in general. It was making her irritable.

Twenty minutes later, she sat down on the couch beside him. He didn't stir so she indulged herself and just looked at him for a moment. Watched his chest rise and fall with his breathing. Watched his lashes flutter against those damn cheekbones. Her fingers itched to brush through the salt and pepper at his temples, but she made a fist and let out a sigh. He looked peaceful for a change.

His eyes cracked open and he stared at the ceiling for a long moment, blinking a few times before turning his head towards her, his eyes traveling down her slowly, settling on the kit in her lap.

"What are you going to do with me, Joss?"

Ignoring the heat that ran through her body with his gaze, she huffed. "I have asked myself that _so_ many times over the last couple of years..."

He grinned in understanding and ran his hand casually over her shoulder. "I don't doubt that, but I meant with that kit in your lap."

"Well...right now, I'm going to clean you up...again." She fiddled with the items in the box, pulling out some peroxide and gauze and laying them in her lap. Pulling her legs up, she curled them under her and turned to face him. It didn't seem to be as bad as she'd first thought. A couple small cuts and some bruising; he was definitely going to be sore in the morning. But she wasn't going to call him on it...he'd probably make some excuse to leave.

Why did that idea bother her so much? The little voice snickered at her.

She turned his chin towards her and gently wiped the dried blood off with the damp towel. "You're a mess."

"And you look beautiful."

She rolled her eyes at him and brushed the hair off of her face. "Shush and stop fidgeting." She couldn't control her reaction when he ran his finger over her calf, her eyes shot to his and then she snorted when he winked at her. "Stop it."

Reaching over, she ran her fingers over his shirt trying to distract him. "This has seen better days."

He sighed and looked down, pulling at the tattered fabric "Not the first...won't be the last."

She only shook her head at him and grinned. "No, you're probably right. I should be able to find something around here if you want to change."

He cocked his head at her, his crooked smile turning quickly to a smirk. "You just want to see me half naked; admit it."

She poked him in the chest and laughed in spite of herself, her nerves spiking a bit. "Yeah, that's what I want. At 3 in the morning, with you drugged and beat up, and me looking sexy in my sweats and bed head."

Reese grabbed her hand and kissed her palm. "You look beautiful." When she looked down and blushed, he tipped her head up with his other hand. "You do. You always do. You amaze me, Joss. You humble me. You make me feel things I haven't - "

She pulled her hand away, interrupting him, and moved to stand. "Can we just get you cleaned up, please? I'll see if I can find you a shirt; I don't want you bleeding on my couch."

She could feel his eyes on her as she walked away...and felt the heat of his gaze long after she knew he couldn't see her.

Leaning against the dresser, she closed her eyes. What the hell was she going to do about this? He wasn't making it easy and he probably didn't even realize what he was doing to her. She just had to steel what little resolve she had and get through this. A few hours...that's all it was gonna take.

* * *

Reese watched her go and put his head in his hands, his heart aching. He knew what was running through her head, why she was uncomfortable. He was coming out of the fog of the serum, but he still wasn't out of the woods. He still couldn't control his reaction to her like he normally could. His need to be in her space, to touch her. His feelings for her, usually buried deep enough to look like friendship, were bubbling to the surface. If he wanted to salvage things, he needed to go. Probably shouldn't have come here in the first place. But he'd wanted...no, he'd _needed_ to see her. Even in the state he was in, it was her he'd wanted to be with. Maybe he'd wanted the excuse of the drug to say the things he'd been wanting to say for so long, but seeing her reaction to his compliments only proved to him that they weren't on the same page.

* * *

Joss wandered back into the living room carrying a worn Army sweatshirt and stopped dead in her tracks. Reese was up, his jacket in his hand, trying to straighten his torn shirt as he headed to the door.

"So, what...you're just gonna leave? You came here, woke me up, got me to clean you up, and now you're leaving without saying a word?"

He had the good sense to look a little contrite, but he just shrugged his shoulders. "I'm sorry, Joss."

She wanted to throttle the man. She did. The clueless, beautiful man needed to be knocked upside the head, but she held back. Instead, she just walked to him and took his arm, pulling him back to the couch.

"Just sit down, John. You're not going anywhere."

Sitting down beside him, she set the sweatshirt on the table. "You wanna tell me why you were leaving?"

Reese picked at a cuticle, his forearms leaning on his legs. His voice was quiet when he finally spoke. "I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable. In fact, it's the last thing I want."

She sighed and stilled his nervous hands. "John...you didn't make me uncomfortable."

He caught her eyes with his.

She didn't miss the fact that he had trouble focusing on her...that he had to blink a few times and shake his head a little to clear his vision.

"You're just not yourself right now."

He let out a mirthless laugh. "I'm more _myself_ right now than I've probably been in a long time." He took her hand, running his fingers over her palm. She caught her breath at the sensation. "I know what's going on, Joss. I know you think I'm not...here...right now..." He looked up at her. "But you also know this stuff makes it tough to lie...not impossible, but tough. I've never lied to you. I don't want to start now."

She licked her lips nervously, a move that didn't go unnoticed. "I know. I know you've never lied to me. But right now, what good is that when you might not remember any of this?"

He shrugged and shifted, moving a little closer. "Might not, but I might also remember all of it. My head's clearing a little."

She pulled away and stood, turning away from him. "I'm not sure I can take that chance."

"Why?"

She wrapped her arms over her waist and turned back around. "Shouldn't I be the one picking your brain right now? You're the one who's got truth serum running through his veins...maybe I should ask you a few questions, get some of that information I've been wanting..."

He stood, wobbling a little, and ran his hands over her arms. He knew she was deflecting, understood her need for it. "You can ask me anything you want...well, almost anything." He shrugged with a smirk. "...you always could. But you didn't answer my question. Why? Why can't you take the chance that I might not remember?"

Her breath hitched. God, she was tired. This was going sideways on her. Why did it always _do_ that around him?

He leaned down and gave her a quick smile. "Joss? Talk to me..."

"Damn it...because this is important to me. _You're_ important to me...and if we're gonna go there...if you're going to say things like that and mean them...I _need_ you to remember that you said them! We'd be crossing a line, John. One we set up between us a long time ago. And I'd be the only one on the other side, if you didn't."

He blew out a long breath at her confession. "I need to sit down." He settled back on the couch and ran his hands through his hair.

He wasn't sure what to think now. They actually _were _on the same page...but with him in this condition, nothing was going to get accomplished. He understood her misgivings. He did. He was just a little...hurt...at the moment. "You don't think I would say those things if I wasn't doped up..."

"Honestly? No." She sat down next to him, her anger played out. "Oh John..." She took a deep breath and rubbed her hand down his back. "Neither of us is an open book, we never have been around each other. Yeah, I think we both know there's something here...but we don't do this. We don't talk this way. So, for you to do it...now...makes it suspect, don't you think?"

He could only nod. And then it hit him and he smiled.

Confused and unable to resist, Joss threaded her fingers through the hair at his temples. "What are you grinning about?"

John closed his eyes and leaned into her hand, enjoying the warmth of her touch. When he opened his eyes he leaned over, kissing her cheek and rubbing his nose against it. He pulled back only slightly and looked into her eyes. "I just realized that you should know I mean it _because_ of what's running through my veins right now, not in spite of it. I'm a little slow right now."

He was right. She knew this. But they were going around in circles...wanting to move forward, but knowing things might go back to the way they were before. That was the last thing her heart wanted. The last thing it needed. She wasn't sure she could handle being the only one who remembered what happened here tonight.

But, God...he made her feel things too...so strongly.

Would it be _that _bad if she gave in...just for a second? Just for a taste? He was _so_ close...

He could see it in her eyes...the same need he felt. It bolstered him. Made him move forward a little and he rested his hand on her thigh, nuzzling against her with his nose, breathing her in. "Please, Joss, it needs to be you," he whispered against her mouth.

He held his breath, his eyes closed. Until he felt her briefly touch her lips to his. He sucked in a breath of surprise. They both did.

Her eyes shot open at the sound and found he was staring at her, his eyes twinkling and darting between hers. Holding her with his. Giving her the strength she needed.

They stayed like that for a long, heated, moment. He let out a soft laugh as she said, "Damn it." and her hands came up to grasp his face and pull him to her, the kiss stronger and deeper than before.

It was like kissing lightning, the feeling deep in her gut like butterflies fluttering madly, like nothing she could describe.

He leaned closer, his hands coming to rest on her hips, pressing her deeper into the couch. Heads turned, twisted, aligned perfectly. Like they were meant to be like this, at this exact moment.

Someone groaned. She didn't care who it was, she just didn't want the feeling to end. Her hands slid up and fisted tightly in his hair, pulling him impossibly closer.

She felt him smile against her mouth before he teased the seam of her lips with this tongue. She took a nip of his lower lip and did some teasing of her own. This time she knew it was him that groaned.

She pulled back, the fog of her need clearing just enough for her to realize that things could get out of hand, _had_ gotten out of hand, quickly.

"John..." she pressed her hands on his shoulders. He leaned in and stole one last kiss before taking a deep breath and leaning his forehead against hers.

Reaching up, he brushed her cheeks with his thumbs, his eyes still closed.

Neither of them said a word until Reese blew out a long breath and a chuckle. "Wow."

She giggled against him as he pulled her tightly against his chest. "Yeah."

"If I forget _that_, you have permission to remind me."

She took a deep breath, not willing to let the fear of that very thing overwhelm her again. She sat up and reached for the sweatshirt, handing it to him. "Why don't you get changed and we'll...I don't know...wait this out, I guess...see what happens."

He gave her hand a gentle squeeze in understanding and stood, realizing, as he looked down, he probably shouldn't have gotten up just yet. He used the sweatshirt as a shield and looked back at her as he headed to the bathroom, giving her an embarrassed smile. The embarrassment didn't last long, though, as her eyes traced him from head to toe, her eyebrow raised in humor.

"Not a word, Joss. Not a word," he laughed. "I'll be right back."

* * *

When he came back out, his torn shirt in his hand, she hadn't moved much, just shifted her position to the end of the couch, her back against the arm, her legs bent.

He tossed the shirt on the table and sat down, his hand running over her knee.

"You look better." She stretched her legs out, patting her lap. "C'mon over here."

He didn't question her, just stretched out and rested his shoulders and head against her stomach, staring at the ceiling. It wasn't long before he felt her nails scraping gently through his hair. It was hypnotising. And felt incredible.

As she usually did, she surprised him. Instead of asking the multitude of questions he'd expected from her, they just _talked._ He found himself offering up snippets of his life he hadn't shared with anyone in so long, he was stunned with how easy it was.

She listened, let him talk, and gave him pieces of herself as well. Things he didn't already know, things he'd wondered about, but wasn't sure he was ready to ask.

He felt cocooned between her legs, his arms resting on her thighs, his hands tracing patterns on her calves under the fabric of her sweats. Some time during their talk, she'd wrapped her arms over his chest and leaned her chin on his shoulder. He could feel her warm breath on his neck. It made the rest of him warm too.

After a while, even talking seemed to be too much for them and they settled into a peaceful quiet.

It wasn't long before she felt the rumbling of his soft snoring and glanced over to see his eyes closed, his breath deep and even. He'd reached up and clasped her hands in his, pressing them over his heart. That was how she joined him in sleep - curled around him, comfortable, warm, and content.

* * *

The sun woke her a few hours later and she stretched, reaching her arms over her head, her joints popping.

And she realized she was alone on the couch.

Glancing around the room, she spotted the sweatshirt folded neatly on the table and her heart clenched a little in her chest. Sighing, she ran her hands through her hair as she sat up. She gave herself a minute or two to contemplate her situation before making a decision about how to deal with what was in front of her.

She stood and headed to the bathroom, not looking back at the sweatshirt...not letting it get to her. She had to be rational about this. It was the only way she knew how to be.

As she brushed her teeth, she realized she could do one of two things. She could get angry. Angry that he'd left without saying a word. Angry that he'd left her to wonder if maybe he _didn't _remember any of the things they'd shared last night. The truths. The strides they'd made. The kiss. God...that kiss. She flushed just thinking about it. He _had_ to remember that.

Or she could face it head on. Go to him and get some answers. Find out if she really was going to be left on this side of their line by herself, as she'd feared she would be when they'd started this whole thing.

In the end, she knew there really was only one decision she could make and come out of this in one piece.

* * *

He smiled when the knock came; he knew she'd come. And he'd timed it almost perfectly. He'd showered and changed and set the coffee to brew. They'd need it.

When he'd woken up with her, had felt the heat of her against him, he'd thought about staying, but he knew she'd need time. Time to process the changes in their relationship. Weigh the pros and cons. Be rational. It was her way; he knew that better than anyone.

He also suspected she was going to be really, really pissed at him for leaving without a word. No note, no "thanks for everything." He hoped he was ready for that possibility too.

When he opened the door, she stared up at him, her eyes wary, her bottom lip worried between her teeth, but he didn't see the anger as he thought he would. He saw her apprehension clearly though. She really had no idea what to expect from him and that made him feel worse for leaving like he had.

He nodded and stepped aside to let her in, but as she tried to slip past him, his hand brushed hers and he grasped it, twining their fingers together, and tugging her gently against him. He heard her quick intake of breath, but she didn't look up.

With his other hand, he pushed her hair away and pressed a kiss to her temple, whispering softly, "I remember..._everything_."

He heard and felt his own heart give a hard thump as she pulled at his shirt and buried her face in his chest, letting out a quick hiccup of a cry.

He kicked the door closed behind them.

**End**


End file.
